


The Death of a Lover

by shittyshittyfuckmytitty



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:08:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shittyshittyfuckmytitty/pseuds/shittyshittyfuckmytitty
Summary: The day when Micah Bell’s sweetheart died was the same exact day every ounce of happiness disappeared from his life.





	The Death of a Lover

_-_

_“Micah, I haven’t ever asked you this question. Why’d you leave the life of crime only to return to it?” Charles asks, his tone humours as he takes a quick swig of his beer afterwards._

_Little does he know it's the question Micah asks himself every time he wakes up in the morning._

_The camp is silent, and Micah’s mind wanders back to that night._

_-_

 

Presley's hands were wrapped Micah's rather large ones. They walked through the streets of Saint Denis without a care in the world. That day – March 1st, 1885 - was a day nobody could forget. Especially the blonde gunslinger.  The jokes spread between the blonde and the brunette were sharp, crude and sometimes rather antagonising, but neither of the two gave a toss. Recently married: Presley Jackie Bell and Micah Bell the III. He'd given up everything for Presley– his past, his pride, his family. He got a job as a policeman strolling the seats of Saint Denis, fighting crimes he once committed, giving his sweet everlasting wife a house to call a home. He gave her everything he had, and in return, she blessed him. Presley Bell made his life worth living. She gave him a reason to breathe, a reason to wake up in the morning and not rob the next man he saw. She.. she saved him.

Once upon a time, the two were happy. In love. And that day– well, that night even, was the day Presley finally revealed to her husband they were having a baby. She was pregnant. So, there they were: holding hands, walking closer and closer to their apartment, giggling and chatting away like nothing bad could ever happen to the two of them. Out of uniform; Micah had taken the day off to spend time with his wife, who couldn’t stop throwing up. Micah took the day off to take her on a date. He took the day off to watch her  _die._

The blonde smiled, tipping his head at a man who stalked past his wife carelessly, strolling with a briefcase in his hand. Presley had taught him that. She said it was a sign of respect, and all Micah wanted to do was impress her. “Well, Mrs.Bell, I ain’t sure ‘bout you, but I’d say we’re almost home.”

He had cut his hair short for her. Trimmed his beard. She said,  _Mr.Bell, you look like a right gentleman_ , and he couldn't help but nod his head and stare at her. She saved him. Literally saved him. Shot a bullet through the skull of a man who had shoved a knife through Micah's beergut the night he got into a barfight. Presley laid him down and shouted for help, kept pressure on his wound. Let him stay with her for a while, let him move in. Presley did everything and anything for him, and on their wedding day he promised the exact same.

If only he knew..

“That we are, Mr.Bell,” Presley beamed, a soft teasing tone edging into her words. The happiest day of their lives was reciting in her head when she looked up at him and she giggled shyly, resting her head on Micah's shoulder. Smiling sheepishly, Presley rubbed her thumb over Micah's knuckles. “Just around this corner and we’re home. Safe and sound."

 The two of them walked, slow and in sync, around the corner and into the narrow alleyway. Her grip on him tightened, and Micah didn’t question it, he didn’t make a joke like he would've done to anyone else. Instead, he strolled down the alleyway, hand-in-hand with her, making sure to check her face for worry every few seconds, but it still wasn't good enough. Micah should’ve been more careful; should’ve known when she stiffened up and stopped moving. When he almost tripped over his own feet because his fingers were still intertwined with his, and he definitely should've known when he looked behind his shoulder and straight behind her.

 When he saw the barrel of a gun pressed to his wife’s forehead, when he saw her eyes widen. When he felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. When he saw every good thing in his life flash before his eyes.

There, behind his wife and in front of him, stood a man. Not just any man– the man that tore his world apart. Micah edged forwards, before the man tensed up and wrapped his hand around Presley’s neck tighter, pushing the gun to her temple harder.

 

 

_-_

_“She was gorgeous.”_

_It takes a second for everyone to realise that he’s speaking, but as quick as the sentence comes, it goes. Gone. Forbidden words nobody would ever hear again._

_“Who was?”_

_-_

A beautiful woman, nobody could deny that, and when she settled down for Micah Bell, the blonde was taken off guard, that’s for sure. In that moment– the moment Presley had a gun pressed to her temple, that’s all Micah could think. How beautiful she was. Not an escape plan, not how to save her life. How gorgeous his wife truly looked and he hated himself for it. Honestly? Micah expected Presley to have higher expectations. Nobody could look away from her and nobody wanted to. Her eyes looked like a cloud filled sky just after a thunderstorm. A scar; smeared down her face like mascara, curves riddling her body. Presley.. Presley was like a book that everyone wanted to read, but only Micah could make it past Chapter One. He just never expected to get to the ending so quick.

 “Give me all your fuckin’ money. Give me it,” he seethed, a bandana wrapped around his face, his soul captured by a rage that Presley didn’t cause, that Micah didn’t create, that didn’t have anything to do with the two lovers. “I said, give me all your money!”

 Presley swallowed thickly, her eyes trained on Micah’s. She looked desperate. The most desperate he’d ever seen her. More desperate than when he got shot chasing down an O’Driscoll with his colleagues. They both knew Micah have his wallet on him. They both knew Presley didn’t have her purse on her. Tears swelled up in her eyes as if she knew what was going to happen, and she could only let Micah stare at her with shaking hands.

Micah stepped forward. The thief knew what he was doing, and tightened his grip around Presley’s neck, making her choke slightly. Micah’s wife was now on the tip of her toes, trying to make sure she didn’t suffocate. Presley gasped as the thief walked further backwards and snapped a remark at Micah. She warned him with her eyes: _don't do anything stupid now, Micah, for the love of god_. Presley would've told him that what he did was fine, exactly what she wanted. Micah would've said it was the action that tore his life apart.

He stood still and did nothing, like she wanted him to.

Did she want him to?

Quickly, Presley sucked in a breath and stood on the tip of her toes, gasping out a quick sentence that made the thief grunt angrily "We haven't got any money, mister. We-We left it all at home in the drawer. Micah, tell him.”

"I ain’t got nothin’ on me, so let her go,” Micah offered his hands out slowly, almost as if he was pleading, which despite the cowboy not realising– he was, "please."

In return, all the thief did was laugh. It was slow and deep. It was sinister. It was a laugh that shook Micah to the bone and made Presley squeeze her eyes shut. Micah swore it happened so slowly. He could've saved her but he just stared, mouth agape. The thief pressed his finger on the trigger and pulled it, and the only thing that filled Micah's ears in that moment was the blood-curdling scream leaving his wife.

 

_-_

_“My wife.”_

_Charles leans forwards, and Arthur stares at the blonde in slight discomfort. Married? Micah Bell? Who’ve thought? Micah Bell hs a sweetheart?_

_Arthur peers at Micah, a smile crawling on his face, “What was her name?”_

_“Presley. Presley Jackie Bell.”_

_-_

Time stopped in that moment. The thief turned and ran, giving Micah no time to choose between the two people and he chose her. Presley fell, a hole running from the left side of her head to the right side, the bullet had smeared clean through. Dried tears sat on her cheeks, and Micah caught her, wrapping his arms around her limp body. 

A sob racked through his body. It consumed him as he brushed the brown hair from her face, staring down at her porcelain face and shut eyes. Blood ran down the side of her face and caked his fingertips, but Micah couldn’t seem to focus. The blur of his tears blocked everything he saw, apart from her bloody face, and he prayed that everything was just a dream. It wasn't, but Micah desperately wanted it to be. His lover, the mother of his child, just.. gone. Taken away from him, for what? Ten dollars that was sitting in the wallet in their apartment?

"If only you let me bring my wallet, you damned stubborn fool," Micah sniffled, a soft laugh breaking through his silent sobs, his fingers curling in his wife's hair. He kissed her forehead gently, letting the tears fall freely. "I ain't ever takin' advice from you again."

His voice came out desperate, almost as if it was a cry for help. Maybe it was. Maybe it was because everything he had ever known up until that point had died along with her. He needed her to speak to him, he needed her to whisper his name, but nothing came out of her. She was just dead. Gone. Her existence was simply a fragment in the universe but that fragment was gone, and Micah’s life was the universe, and that fragment kept the universe going. 

The day when Micah Bell’s sweetheart died was the same exact day every ounce of happiness disappeared from his life.

 

-

_“March 1 st, 1885.”_

_The blaze of the fire flickers in Micah’s eyes, and both Charles and Arthur lean forward in anticipation. Sadness etches into the pit of Micah’s stomach and he lets out a long sigh, poking the fire with a stick to make the flames roar, and he stands slowly, turning his back and waving the two men off._

_“That’s the reason I returned to this shitty life."_

_-_

 

 

 


End file.
